Into His Past
by upsettingthemoon
Summary: Set right after The Reichenbach Fall ends.  An old friend of Sherlock's appears and takes John on a trip into his best friend's past.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm writing this in hopes that it will make me less sad about how The Reichenbach Fall ended. Basically, the Doctor knows Sherlock and he shows up after he dies and he takes John with him and they go and creep in on Sherlock's past.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of this, if I did... well, the shows would not be quite so stressful for the viewers. **

John was halfway back to Mrs. Hudson when he heard the noise. It was a strange noise, he never would figure out how to properly describe it, and it was so out of place in the silence of the cemetery that he turned around to locate the source. He was incredibly surprised to find a blue police box sitting beside Sherlock's grave where it had not been moments before. Curious, he took a few steps toward it, but he halted when the doors opened and a man stepped out.

The man was younger than John and was holding a bunch of the strangest flowers that John had ever seen. He looked sadly at Sherlock's grave and laid the flowers down beside the ones Mrs. Hudson had left. He appeared to be talking, but John was too far away to hear what he was saying. It wasn't until he had turned to go back into the box that he saw John watching him.

"John?" The man called hesitantly.

John began walking towards him. "Yes?"

The man beamed at him, "Oh good, Doctor John Watson, yes? I knew it was you, and I was hoping I'd run into you. It's horrible what's happened. I've known Sherlock since he was a boy, never would have imagined he'd do something like this. Well I suppose I could have imagined, might've even known earlier, but my previous visits to London 2012 were always busy. I ran the Olympic Torch, you know. Oh, but that has happened yet. Forget I said that. Anyway, it's nice to meet you." John had reached the strange man, who held out a hand for John to shake. John took it lightly.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

"Just the Doctor."

John appraised the doctor without a name, who was now smiling sadly at John.

"I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. Uh, you said you knew Sherlock since he was a boy. Wouldn't you have been a boy too? I mean, you're younger than he is. Was." John mentally cursed himself. He didn't think he would ever get used to referring to Sherlock in past tense.

"I'm actually not. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how I old I am, which I won't. Well, I could. Do you want to know?"

"Do I want to know your age? I don't really care, no. I would like to know who you are though because, believe it or not, telling me you're a doctor doesn't actually tell me anything about you."

"Not a doctor, _the_ Doctor. And I told you, I'm an old friend of Sherlock's."

"Sherlock didn't have friends."

"He had you."

"I know. But having me didn't do him any good in the end, did it?"

"He wasn't a fraud. Every deduction he ever made was completely genuine. It was a gift."

"I know. I knew him, there was no way it was fake."

"Yes. Of course. Although, I was hoping that you would say, "I don't know if it was real," and then I could have said, "Of course it was real. I can prove it to you if you like," and then you would have said, "And how the hell are you going to do that?" and I would have said, "Just step into the box." But if you already know the truth then I had probably better be off. Places to go, people to see. Actually, only one person to see. All the others think I'm dead. But I could go see her, haven't in a week. Bring her a "I hope you're enjoying prison" card, she'd enjoy that…"

"What do you mean, you could prove it to me?" John cut off the Doctor's ramblings.

The Doctor grinned. "Just step into the box, John Watson.

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Because inside that box is a miracle, and I think you could use a miracle just about now."

John reached for the door of the box, but paused just as he reached it. He looked back over to where the car was waiting. "Mrs. Hudson…"

"Will be here when we get back." He nudged John's hand out of the way and opened the door, "Now get in." The Doctor pushed John who proceeded to trip and fall on the floor of the TARDIS.

The Doctor shut the door and walked past John to the console as John rubbed the hip he had fallen onto.

"Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting you to fall. Now, this is the TARDIS."

John looked up and his mouth immediately fell open. "But we're in a box. A small, blue, police box. How..?"

The Doctor finished at the console and walked over to John, reaching out a hand to help him to his feet. "TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

"But what does that _mean_?" John asked, walking over to the console to run a hand over one of the controls, his legs a little shaky.

"Well, basically it's a spaceship."

"Oh?" John's voice quivered.

"And also a time machine."

"And it's bigger on the inside…?"

"Oh yes. Basically, it's a different dimension."

"Different dimension." John took a little gasp for air. "Yeah, okay. This is a lot to take in; I think I need to sit down."

"Sitting, yes, sitting is good. Chair is there."

John sat down and immediately brought his hands to his face and began massaging his temples. He was having trouble processing everything. One minute he had been trying to not cry at his best friend's grave, the next he was on a space ship with a man who he knew nothing about. He expected he had been drugged. That was the only answer. By who, he wasn't sure. He hadn't exactly been spending a lot of time around people since it had happened, but it was the only plausible explanation. Well, either that or dreaming, but he felt awake.

"I've been drugged." He said aloud, not raising his head from his hands, but feeling the need to tell the strange man of his breakthrough.

"No you haven't. I can assure you of that. But now that you're talking again, would you mind telling me where you want to go?"

"Where I want to go?" John asked slowly.

"Of course. We're in a time travelling space ship; did you really think I brought you in here just to show off? Don't answer that. Now, anywhere in time and space, anything that ever happened or ever will. Where should we start?"

John looked up at the Doctor. He was poised in front of the console, looking at John expectantly and smiling brightly. He cocked an eyebrow and John managed to get out a single word.

"Sherlock."

The Doctor's smiled faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly and went back to smiling. "I should have expected that, I really should have. And I could, easily. But, are you sure that's the best idea?"

"You said anywhere." John was hopeful, not knowing the Doctor well enough to know if he would agree.

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" He sighed. "Alright then. Off to see Sherlock. I'm not taking you to recent Sherlock. It would be too difficult to not cross your own time stream, and we can't have Sherlock recognizing you the first time you two meet, so we'll have to go to his childhood. It'll be less likely he'll make the connection that way" The Doctor looked up at John, who was looking slightly disappointed. "I'm sorry, but it's the best I can do."

John nodded. "Okay. I always wondered what he would have been like as a child." He moved to stand beside the Doctor. "How early are we going?"

"How does baby Sherlock sound to you?"

"Fine. Sounds fine."

"Alright then. Hang onto some thing, and…" The Doctor pulled down a lever and the TARDIS jerked, "we're off!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Doctor landed the TARDIS in the hall of a house. It was dark when John and the Doctor stepped through the door, and before John could ask where they were the Doctor had shushed him and shoved him through the open door beside them, closing it quietly behind them.

"Be sure to be quiet, everyone's sleeping." The Doctor whispered as John looked around.

They were in what appeared to be a large nursery. From the glimpse he had gotten of the hallway, John guessed that the house was both old and large; the family obviously wealthy. And, judging from the crib in the corner and the fact that the Doctor had just told him they were going to baby Sherlock, he guessed that this was the Holmes house.

John walked over to the crib and looked down at baby Sherlock. His eyes were wide open and he gave John a curious look when he saw him. The look only lasted a moment though, before he made a few sounds that could have been attempts at words and tried to raise his arms towards John.

John turned to the Doctor, who had come to stand behind him. "Can I hold him?"

"Oh yes, he wants you to." John reached down and picked up baby Sherlock, cradling him gently in his arms.

"How old is he?"

"About six months, I'd say." Then "Oh, I'm sorry, six and a half months. You know it really doesn't make that much a difference."

"Yeah, I know it doesn't." said John, a little confused.

"Yeah I know_ you_ do, I was talking to him."

"You were telling a six month old that a couple weeks don't make a difference?"

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"Because he thinks they do."

"And how could you possibly know that?" John tried to subtly shift Sherlock away from the man he was suspecting was completely mad.

"I speak baby."

John's suspicions were confirmed. Completely mad, this Doctor. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I. Speak. Baby." The Doctor enunciated, then, to the baby, "I know he isn't the brightest, but you really should give him more credit."

"I can hear you."

"Of course you can." The Doctor smiled and clapped John on the shoulder. "So, your best friend as a baby; is it everything you've dreamed?"

"Well, I can't say I've ever dreamed about this, but he is quite sweet." John smiled down at baby Sherlock, who smiled back. "It'll be shame when he learns to talk." John watched Sherlock for a few more moments, and then suddenly started giggling to himself. "This is mental." He looked up at the Doctor. "I was at his grave, then suddenly I got in a time machine with a man I don't know and now I'm holding him. He's a baby, and I'm holding him, but he's dead. And I am clearly going mad. And you're clearly already mad, can speak baby, and I don't even know anything about you. And I think I need to sit down." John collapsed in the rocking chair beside the crib, being careful not to jostle Sherlock to much.

"Well what would you like know about me?" The Doctor leaned against the crib, observing John carefully.

"Everything. Who exactly are you? Why, no, _how_ do you have a time machine? You said you knew Sherlock when he was a child, how? Why do your friends think you're dead? How…"

"Stop talking for a moment, I'll start by answering those." The Doctor interrupted. "I'm the Doctor, a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey…"

"Wait, Time Lord? _Planet_ Gallifrey? You're not human?"

"Course not. How do I have a time machine? I stole the TARDIS. Well, borrowed really. Not that I can bring her back now, but I had always intended to. I met Sherlock while we both investigating a series of murders, the work of aliens. He was about eight, very advanced for his age, and he already knew who I was. That's the trouble of time travel, nothing happens in the right order. He asked me where my friend was…" The Doctor trailed off, looking at John. "I suppose you explain that. Anyway, I worried about him; a brilliant young boy, no friends to speak of, so I checked in on him every couple of years. Took him in the TARDIS a couple times. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so unimpressed by the inside. Well, Rory. Oh Rory…" The Doctor got quiet again, lost in thought.

John cleared his throat loudly and the Doctor jumped.

"Right, anyway. Why do they think I'm dead? Because they saw me die. Well, it wasn't actually me. Well, I was there. I was inside the Tesselector."

"Wait a minute." John said, standing up again. "You died. People saw you die, and you're still alive." He was hopeful. If the Doctor could fake his death, then couldn't a certain consulting detective?

"Oh John. I'm sorry, but I had help, quite a bit. And I don't think Sherlock had access to a Tesselector."

"Oh, right. Of course not." John's spirits dropped. He didn't bother asking what a Tesselector was, it sounded complicated. John watched as baby Sherlock yawned and tried to stop himself from thinking that he had watched this baby commit suicide.

"I'm sorry John. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"No, no. It's fine. I want to…"

"Who are you?"

Neither John nor the Doctor had heard the door open. They both turned towards the door, John almost dropping Sherlock in the process. A chubby boy of around eight was standing there in his pyjamas with his arms crossed against his chest, looking annoyed.

"Ah, Mycroft. You startled me." The Doctor walked across the room and embraced the boy, "Good to see you."

"I said, who are you?" He asked again, voice muffled against the Doctor's shoulder.

"Oh, right. It's early. Sorry about that." The Doctor stepped away from Mycroft, looking guilty. "I'm the Doctor."

"And who's he?"

"A friend of mine. His name is not important as I am completely to blame for the breaking into your brother's room in the middle of the night."

"Why are you here?"

"You'll understand when you're older. We had best be going. John, put Sherlock back."

"Yep," John kissed Sherlock lightly on the forehead before lowering him back into his crib. "Goodbye," he whispered before following the Doctor to the TARDIS. He ruffled Mycroft's hair as he walked by him and Mycroft scowled in annoyance. He briefly entertained himself with the idea of what older Mycroft would do if he tried to ruffle his hair, and was chuckling when he walked into the TARDIS.

"Where to next?" John asked as the Doctor fiddled with the console.

"A couple years, I think. We'll have to be careful though, I wasn't expecting Mycroft to show up. He's old enough to recognize you when he meets you in his future."

"Do you really think he would recognize me? He barely looked at me."

"If we had just walked by him on the street I wouldn't worry about it. But do you really think he won't remember the face of the man who broke into his house to hold his little brother?"

"Oh, well when you put it like _that_."

"You'll need a disguise. They'll see through it, they are Holmes' after all, but hopefully they won't actually care enough to learn why we're hiding you. Come with me." The Doctor started towards the nearest staircase.

"Where are we going?"

"A tour of the TARDIS, ending in the wardrobe where we'll find you a wig and some different clothes."

"A wig?" John groaned. He had always hated wigs. Harry used to have a couple and she would make him wear them when she was bored.

"Yes a wig. Now come on. We don't have all day."

John went to follow the Doctor, a feeling of intense déjà vu going through him. He supposed it was the following. He always seemed to be following someone else direction, someone who happened to be amazing and clever and insane.

"Always the same," John muttered, walking up the stairs, "Always the bloody same."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Once John had been disguised in a curly red wig and was wearing a purple polo shirt with a really ugly beige windbreaker, the Doctor landed the TARDIS. They stepped out into the sunlight of a warm summer day, and once John's eyes had adjusted to the light, he saw that they were on the outskirts of a large property. Along with a large house, there was a pool, barn, and what looked like a small city park.

"So this is the Holmes house?" John asked, somewhat rhetorically.

"About five years later than the last time we were here."

"Five years, right. Why five years?"

The Doctor grinned mischievously. "Why not?"

It was then that John heard a woman calling out.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, where are you?" He saw her a moment later, coming around from the far side of the house. She looked equally worried and annoyed. John wondered who she was.

"And that would be Sherlock's nanny." The Doctor answered John's unasked question. "She's wasting her breath, he won't be found unless he wants to be."

"So how are we supposed to find him?"

"Curiosity. Not ours, but his. Now let's go. And remember, from this moment on you are just John. It's a common enough name, no need to bring Watson into it."

"Yeah, of course not. It's not that I won't be completely recognizable anyway." John muttered sarcastically, scratching his wig.

The Doctor ignored him, choosing instead to reach into his jacket and pull out a thing. He waved it around a little, then smiled, stuffing it away. "Right, we go this way."

"What was that thing?" John asked as the Doctor started walking towards the park-like area.

"This?" The Doctor pulled it back out and John nodded. "Sonic Screwdriver. Incredibly useful. Doesn't work on wood though, so don't ask."

"Screwdriver?"

"Yes. Come on, this way."

The two men walked in silence for a few minutes. John was admiring the property. It was large and lush and John couldn't help but wonder what had happened to it in the present as both Sherlock and Mycroft lived in London and aside from the comment about Christmas dinner; neither really mentioned their childhood or their parents.

"Alright, he should be somewhere around here." The Doctor said, stopping abruptly in the middle of a clump of pine trees. "Sherlock?" He asked quietly. "Sherlock, you can come out."

A small voice came from one of the trees. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor, and this is my friend John."

"I don't need a doctor." He said haughtily, but John heard one of the trees rustle and moment later a young Sherlock had crawled out from under it.

"Well then it's a good thing I'm not a normal Doctor."

"Then why are you here?"

"We were just in the area. I haven't seen you since you were a baby, so I thought we'd stop by." The Doctor reached out a hand, which Sherlock hesitated before taking, and helped him to his feet.

"Did the nanny send you to look for me?"

"No, I saw her though, she seems worried. Don't you think you'd best let her know you're alright?"

"No. She's annoyed with me because I was dissecting a frog at the kitchen table. Apparently that's unsanitary." Sherlock scowled, and John laughed.

"So you came out here to sulk?" Sherlock glared at John. John smiled at him, some things never changed.

"I do _not_ sulk." Sherlock said with as much force as his young voice would allow.

"Of course you don't. And you never will, either. You'll shoot the walls, won't talk for days, but sulk? Never."

The Doctor placed his hand on John's forearm and shook his head.

"Sorry," John whispered, the smile falling from his face.

"I don't understand." Sherlock said quietly, and John saw how much he hated having to say that.

"You will some day. Or maybe you won't. There's really no way to tell." The Doctor frowned.

"I still don't know why you're here."

"We thought you might like to do something fun, didn't we, John?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. Yes of course."

Sherlock didn't say anything for a minute, choosing instead to look them both over carefully. "You're not from around here." He finally decided to say.

"No, we're not." John said softly.

"Where are you from?"

"Can't tell you that just set. You'll find out when you're older, I promise. Now, something fun?"

A look of annoyance flashed over Sherlock's face. "What do you have in mind?"

"What do you consider fun?"

Sherlock pondered this. "Mycroft's going to a movie with a girl soon. We could go spy on them and tease him about it later."

John snorted.

"How about something that doesn't involve Mycroft?" The Doctor suggested kindly.

"We could catch different kinds of fish from the pond and see which ones die first out of water."

"Absolutely not." Mycroft stepped into the small cluster of trees. "If you catch fish, you let them live. You've likely already scared off the nanny. Mummy won't be pleased that she'll need to find a new one." He glared at Sherlock. "Another new one."

"It's not my fault none of them like me."

"But it is your fault they keep quitting."

Sherlock scowled. "Nobody asked your opinion. Please leave now, the Doctor said we could do something fun, and it won't be if you're here."

Mycroft looked up at the Doctor who smiled guiltily at him. "Ah, Doctor. It's been a while." His eyes swept over to John, who was looking at the ground. "And John, nice to see you." John looked up and smiled briefly. "I can't say I was expecting the two of you to turn up again. And you both look exactly the same. Not a day older, wearing the same clothes…"

"Well it was dark last time, you can't have gotten that good a look at us-"

"Don't insult my intelligence, John. I may only be thirteen but I can guarantee that I am cleverer than you, whoever you are. I would say I'm cleverer than him to but," He turned back to the Doctor, "I've been researching you, Doctor."

"Of course you have," the Doctor muttered, "And what have you found out?"

Mycroft chose not to answer his question. "I wish to have a word with John. Take Sherlock to the pond, don't let him kill any of the fish."

The Doctor exchanged a quick glance with John, who nodded, and grabbed Sherlock's hand, pulling him out of the trees before he had a chance to argue.

John suddenly felt vulnerable. He was alone with a teenager who was obviously not pleased to see him, a little large for his age, and would become a very important person in the government, no matter how minor he insisted his position was. John suddenly felt very foolish in his weak disguise. Surely Mycroft would remember his face regardless of it. Surely he had known John the moment he had laid eyes on him, or would know John. The tenses were confusing. Even more confusing was the meaning behind Mycroft's words once he began to speak.

"My brother was a very quiet baby. The fussiness and general displeasure began when he learned to talk. He rarely cried after he turned 4 weeks old, disregarding the time when Cousin Abigail dropped him." Mycroft sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "He cried when you left last time, for hours. We thought he must have been sick. Mummy and Father still have no idea what caused it. But I knew it must have had something to do with you.

"I don't know who you are. And I don't know who the Doctor is, although I have heard some theories, and I don't know why you seem so interested in my brother, but he seems to like you, and Sherlock doesn't like many people, so I'm going to allow it. But if anything happens to him while he's with you-" John was momentarily astounded that he was being threatened by someone a third of his age, regardless of who he would grow up to be. "If anything happens to him because of you, you will regret it."

"And what if something happens to him because of you?" The words slipped out of John's mouth before he could think about them.

"Then I will regret it." said Mycroft sadly, his head dropping slightly, his eyes leaving John.

"You seem much older than thirteen." John told him.

"Yes, well." Mycroft smiled sadly. "You had best get to Sherlock and the Doctor, I don't trust the two of them by the pond, the Doctor seems hardly more than a child." John nodded and went to leave. "The nanny won't be able to see the pond from the house, I'll tell her she's fine and she'll stop looking for him."

"Two strange men came to visit your five year old brother, and instead of calling the police you're going to tell his nanny not to look for him?"

"The two men came in a blue police box that can appear and disappear out of thin air, I don't see what good the police would be if it came to arresting you."

John chuckled. "Yeah, that's a good point."

Mycroft held out his hand to John. "Until we meet again, John."

John shook it. "It was nice to see you, Mycroft."

John went to the pond where he spent a lovely afternoon with Sherlock and the Doctor knee deep in water trying to catch fish with their bare hands.

He learned that Sherlock was exceptionally bright and perceptive, as he had expected him to be, but was also bitter and seemingly lonely, which he had also expected.

When it came five o'clock the Doctor announced that it was time to for them to go, and anyway, Sherlock should really go inside and wash up for dinner because he was absolutely filthy.

Sherlock pouted. "Will you come back?"

"Of course."

"Soon?"

"As soon as I can."

Sherlock walked with them back to the TARDIS.

"Where are you going to go?"

"I don't know yet."

"You're from the future, aren't you?"

"Something like that."

"Can I come with you." The hopeful expression that crossed Sherlock's face was one that John had never seen before.

"Someday, yes, but not today."

The three of them bid their goodbyes, Sherlock baring his disappointment better than most adults John knew. The Doctor made Sherlock stand outside the TARDIS, and told him if he didn't take his eyes off of it he would see something amazing.

And then he and John disappeared into space.

* * *

><p><em>AN Thanks to everyone who has subscribed and favourited, it really means a lot, especially considering I have no idea what I'm doing when I write this story. The words just kind of come out in a big mess of... messiness. I have no idea where it's going or what'll happen so if you have any suggestions feel free to leave them._


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi! So I thought I would never update this again because I got stuck for ideas but now I have a few and it's summer so I might have more time for writing but I won't guarantee it. But I apologize to anyone who may have been waiting for a new chapter._

_And I did a crap job editing this so sorry for any mistakes.  
><em>

_I'll try and update soon!  
><em>

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

The Doctor insisted that they leave Sherlock alone for a few days, so he took John through the stars. They visited planets, spaceships, old Earth, and they even spent a day in future Earth.

John spent the days in awe, meeting, and often running from, species he didn't know existed. But every night he returned to the room in the TARDIS that the Doctor had given him and thought about the life he had left. About the hole Sherlock had left in him that even running with the Doctor couldn't fix. So one day in the control room, as the Doctor was fiddling with some knob, John brought it up. He wanted to see Sherlock again.

"It's going to be a bit more difficult now. He's getting older, and he's Sherlock Holmes. There's a bigger risk now that he'll remember you." The Doctor said, abandoning the knob and ducking under the console.

"But who's to say he didn't remember me when I first met him, and he just never let on? Mycroft certainly would have remembered me."

"Well it's not Mycroft we'd be going to see."

John was getting annoyed. He had only come with the Doctor to see Sherlock, and he told him that. He watched the Doctor turn his head to look at him from his position on the floor. Finally he sighed.

"Fine. Nine years old, that's as late as we can go. A year after I met him the first time. That's it. And then you can go home for all-"

The Doctor was cut off by a loud beeping that filled that TARDIS. He ran to the monitor and had barely glanced at it before he was rolling his eyes. He flicked a switch and the beeping stopped.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" John asked, walking over to stand beside the Doctor. There was some text on the monitor, but it was in a language he didn't recognize.

"Yes. We've just got to make a quick stop before we go to Sherlock. It'll only take a minute."

They landed barely more than a moment later and the Doctor nearly ran to the door of the TARDIS. John followed and almost crashed into him when he abruptly stopped, the door part way open.

"Where are we?" asked John, peeking out the door. It seemed to be a dimly lit hall, John assumed on a spaceship.

"Stormcage."

"Okay. And what's Stormcage?"

"It's a prison."

"And why are we in a prison?"

"To pick up a friend. Well, I assume she wants to be picked up. It's possible she called me here for… Other reasons. Nevermind."

"You have friends in prison?" John asked slightly incredulous. He pushed past the Doctor and open the door the rest of the way, taking in his surroundings.

"_Friend._ No plural. Well, not that I know of."

"Friend? Is that how you're introducing me now?" The voice came from John's left. He turned to see a woman standing inside a cell, smiling at him. Her smile widened when the Doctor appeared and walked toward her. "Hello sweetie."

"You hacked into the TARDIS."

"Yes."

"How did you _hack_ into the TARDIS?"

"Spoilers."

"_Why_ did you hack into the TARDIS?"

"I was bored."

"You hacked into the TARDIS with a message, in a long dead language, that I was urgently needed, because you were _bored?_"

"Yes. Now are you going to let me out, or am I going to have to ask Doctor Watson to do it?"

John, who had been busy looking at the opposite wall, it was a nice wall, snapped around at his name.

"Hang on, how do you know who I am?"

"Oh, it's early for you then, is it? I guess I had better introduce myself. I'm River Song, it's nice to meet you." She stuck a hand through the bars and John hesitantly approached her to shake it.

"And who are you in relation to the Doctor?"

"I'm his wife?"

"Why are you in prison?"

"She killed me." The Doctor said.

"But you're alive."

"Yes, it's complicated." River smiled.

"It doesn't make any sense."

"Yes it does, it'll just take some time to explain. Time that we don't have now, the guards will be by in a minute, if you're going to let me out please hurry up."

"Fine." The Doctor pulled out his screwdriver and pointed it at the door to her cell. "But no more messing with my TARDIS."

"Fine, fine." She kissed the Doctor. "It's lovely to see you dear. Now where were you two headed before I so rudely interrupted.?"

* * *

><p>They landed in the garden of the Holmes Estate not ten minutes later, having taken the time to briefly explain to John what had happened at Lake Silencio as he was still quite confused with the whole serving time for the murder of a man who wasn't dead thing.<p>

River had seemed quite interested when she found out where they were going. She seemed to have questions for the Doctor about it, but he was refusing to let her ask them. John highly suspected it had to do with him being there.

They found Sherlock in the stables, sitting in the corner with a book.

"Hiding again?" The Doctor asked as they saw him. Sherlock jumped up immediately, trying to keep a smile off his face, and ran over the greet them.

"Doctor!"

"Yes, it's me! And I brought friends. This is River."

"It's lovely to meet you sweetie."

"And I think you'll remember John."

"Of course."

"So what do you want to do today, Sherlock?"

"Are there any aliens around for us to fight?" Sherlock asked eagerly. John remembered that that the Doctor had said he had helped him with some alien murders a year ago. Or was it murdering aliens?

"Not this time. None that I know of. I suppose there's always a chance."

Sherlock pouted.

"Sorry. Maybe next time. No, wait, it won't be next time either. The time after that."

"Can we go find some in the TARDIS then? You said last time I could come with you some time."

"I did say that, didn't I?"

Sherlock nodded, smiling. "Yes, you also said you'd take Mycroft and drop him on a planet far away where all the women are ugly and have three legs."

"I said no such things. Besides, all the three-legged aliens I know are beautiful. You wouldn't want Mycroft around them anyway. Now come on. Planets to go, non-human beings to see."

Once on the TARDIS Sherlock spent a fair amount of time trying to convince the Doctor to take them into the middle of the First World War, and when he finally realized the Doctor wouldn't budge on his decision, Sherlock told him any war would do, it didn't even have to be a human one.

They ended up going for lunch at a retro war themed diner on 29nd century Earth. You had the choice between sitting in the trenches, where the sounds of guns would play endlessly through your meal, or in a house in England where an air raid would be announced randomly and you'd have to hide under the table. They chose the air raid section after much debate between River and John, with John winning.

Once they were seated they got to choose from such menu items as the "Machine Gun Salad", "Chlorine Gas Soda", and "Tank Burger," among many others.

Partway through the meal the siren sounded and the four of them dived under the table, and none of them could contain their giggles when the Doctor's "Rifle Fries" went flying when he knocked the table on his way down.

It was by no means the classiest meal John had ever eaten, but the food was superb. He spent most of the time at the restaurant wondering what had happened to the world that a restaurant themed after war where people went for fun could be genuinely accepted. He didn't think it would go over well in the 21st century.

They went for a walk after lunch, and John watched as young Sherlock tried to deduce things about people from the future. He really didn't do too bad considering his age and the century they were in.

John didn't say much that afternoon. He knew it was likely the last time he'd ever see his friend, so he watched and listened to the young boy as he made his deductions and he even managed to insult the Doctor a few times.

When it came time to drop him at home, Sherlock reluctantly hugged the three adults goodbye.

"I had a nice time, I really did, but next time could we see some more aliens?"

"Maybe for your birthday."

"Great! Goodbye!" Sherlock practically skipped off the TARDIS.

"I said _maybe_!" The Doctor called after him.

River then announced that she deserved a night in a nice bed and would return to Stormcage after she'd slept. She winked at the Doctor before she left the console room, and John decided to take her lead and go to bed as well.

* * *

><p>When John woke the next morning he was hungry. He put on his dressing gown and slippers and began to tread down the hall to where he thought the kitchen was. He was always getting lost on the TARDIS. There were raised voices coming from the room he assumed was River's. The door was slightly ajar, and against his better judgement, he stopped walking to listen in.<p>

"I just can't believe you haven't told him yet!" said River angrily.

"I told you. He _can't _know. I promised I wouldn't tell. It's not my place. That would be like me saying I can't believe you haven't told Amy and Rory yet."

"Actually, since you brought it up…"

"You told them." The Doctor said, completely monotone.

"They'll be expecting you for Christmas."

John sighed, family drama, nothing exciting. Well, nothing he considered exciting. He continued down the hall.

He missed the rest of their conversation.

He missed River insist the Doctor go tell John.

He missed the Doctor maintain that John wouldn't want to hear it from him anyway.

Had he not missed these things, he may have realized that he was missing something bigger, something more important.

Instead, he enjoyed a quiet breakfast of toast with jam alone in kitchen.


End file.
